


Ribbons Not Chains

by AkiRah



Series: Tributaries Of Strength (Font Of Strength Side Fics) [4]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Comfort fic, Dark Side Jaesa, Fallon Noicrothatch (OC) - Freeform, Gen, Gentle Sithiness, Maternal Sith Warrior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-05-03 04:42:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14561109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AkiRah/pseuds/AkiRah
Summary: Fallon reflects on the life Jaesa has lead up to this point and promises to be better to her than everyone prior.





	Ribbons Not Chains

Fallon pulled the comb through Jaesa’s dark brown hair, enjoying the quiet. There was music, there was always music, but it was low. When Fallon set the comb aside, Jaesa’s weight shifted and she pressed her cheek against Fallon’s knee. 

“Something the matter, my apprentice?” Fallon asked. 

“No, master.” Jaesa started to move away but Fallon set a hand on her shoulder to keep her in place. 

“I don’t mind the affection, Jaesa,” she said in a soft voice. “It is good to feed appetites _besides_ bloodshed on occasion.” 

Jaesa, somewhat hesitantly, set her cheek back against Fallon’s leg and Fallon ran her fingers through the soft, fresh-brushed hair. 

“Isn’t this weakness?” Jaesa asked in a small voice. 

Fallon shook her head and smiled. “No, my darling, this is strength. You still operate on many of the lies the Jedi told you about the darkside.” 

Jaesa swallowed at the minor rebuke. 

“Hatred and rage are powerful, beloved. But they pale in comparison to love, platonic, romantic, self, love. _Passion_ , in all its forms, is where the true heart of the darkside lies. To throw yourself headlong into what you crave and to emerge victorious.” 

“I struggle with that, master.” 

“You’re improving,” Fallon praised. “And there is plenty of time to learn.” 

“Hate is easy,” Jaesa sighed, her tone softening. “I have so much of it. So much _anger_. I can not wait to return to Alderaan and burn House Organa to the ground.”

“How long has it been since you knew softness, Jaesa?” 

“Master Yonlach was kind to me,” Jaesa said with the edge of a growl, whether from recalling the man or his death at Fallon’s hands, she couldn’t be sure. “But he was a jedi.” 

Fallon nodded her silent understanding. Any kindness at the hands of a jedi would have been given from a yard away with the caveat that there was no emotion behind it. 

“So not since your parents then.” 

Jaesa was quiet for a long moment. 

Fallon pursed her lips. “Jaesa.” 

“They were good to me, my lord, but they saw me as a tool to elevate their own station.” 

Fallon clicked her tongue with disapproval. She carded her fingers, rather than the comb, through Jaesa’s locks and let her own hate fester. Jaesa had been a treasure seen only for the value she could be traded for, not for the value she brought. 

Jaesa turned her face so her nose pressed to the side of Fallon’s knee. A dampness started, as the young woman’s shoulders began to shake. 

Fallon wanted to ask how long it had been since she’d let herself cry. 

And realized she almost certainly wouldn’t like the answer. 

She would bind Jaesa to her, because there was a dark hunger in the apprentice that needed to be muzzled before, like a rabid beast, Jaesa destroyed herself. But she would bind her with silks, not durasteel. 

And she would let Jaesa be soft and broken and strong and harsh and vulnerable.

All those things the jedi had denied her. 


End file.
